


Remedial

by Wrenlet



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-30
Updated: 2006-10-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:31:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrenlet/pseuds/Wrenlet
Summary: The second time it happens.





	Remedial

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Learning Curve](http://archiveofourown.org/works/18733), AU from just after the third season of Queer as Folk.

The second time it happens, Brian is out of town and that just makes the whole thing feel... odd.  
  
Odd is the only word that comes to mind, anyway, seeing Justin sitting alone at the bar at Woody's with an empty row of shot glasses in front of him arranged in a neat little line. He slams another shot while Ben watches and sets the glass down next to the others with the deliberate care of a man well on his way to shitfaced drunk. Ben realizes he doesn't know Justin all that well, still, but there is something just not quite right about him. Here, tonight.  
  
Justin doesn't look over when Ben slides onto the bar stool next to him, doesn't react at all until after Ben motions to the bartender and orders two bottles of water. Justin picks up the last of his shots -- tequila, by the look of it -- and knocks it back, humming a little at the burn down the back of his throat before his eyes slide to the pair of bottles in front of Ben. "Got company tonight?"  
  
"I do now." Ben pushes one bottle across the polished wood.  
  
Justin eyes it warily for a moment, sighs and slumps on his stool. He lays his forehead down on the back of his hand, and his voice is muffled against the bar but surprisingly clear. "I don't need babysitting, Ben. I'm fine."  
  
Ben shrugs and cracks the seal on his water. Justin's right, Ben isn't anyone's babysitter now, but he's wrong, too. "You're not fine."  
  
Justin doesn't answer. Ben spins slowly until his back is to the bar, rests his elbows against it and looks out over the sparse weeknight crowd. He probably shouldn't be here tonight, any more than Justin should be, but he just... yeah.  
  
Ben feels it more than hears it when Justin finally stirs, slowly lifts his head and reaches for the water. He leans back into the edge of Ben's vision as he drinks, swallow after swallow, until half the bottle is gone and he presses the damp side of it against his cheek. "Thanks. Brian usually reminds me, half his fucking fridge is water."  
  
"But... Brian's not here." Ben wonders if maybe that explains it, the shots and the uncharacteristic silence, but from the way Justin looks at him and starts to laugh, well. Maybe not.  
  
"No, it's not... hah! No. Nothing like that. I just get nightmares sometimes. Used to...." Justin trails off, no longer really laughing, and chews at his lip. "This is the first one in a while."  
  
Ben nods slowly and says it again, lower. "And Brian's not here."  
  
Justin lifts a shoulder. "I couldn't get back to sleep."  
  
"Mmmm." Ben takes another pull of his water and thinks about that. "So you... what. Thought you'd come have a couple-five drinks or so and sleep on the bar?"  
  
That gets him a dry chuckle. "Or under it. Seemed like a good idea at the time?" Justin leans forward then, toys absently with a shot glass, and Ben swivels to face him. Gets a good look at just how drunk Justin is and it occurs to him to worry.  
  
"How'd you get here?"  
  
"Walked. It's not that far, figured I'd cab it home."  
  
Ben nods, and makes the decision without even really thinking about it. "My taxi service is cheaper."  
  
Justin lifts his head and fixes Ben with a look he thinks Justin must have learned from Brian. "Why, Mr. Bruckner, is that a proposition?"  
  
Ben feels a grin tugging at his lips. "It's whatever you want it to be, if it gets you home. Come on."  
  
Justin staggers a little as Ben coaxes him off the stool, careens to the left and winds up slinging an arm around Ben's waist and leaning heavily into him. He starts to giggle softly. "Still can't believe you bought a car. Mr. Health Nut."  
  
"Hey, at least it's a hybrid. It just got... too cold, last winter." Justin goes quiet and absently reaches up to pat Ben's chest, and Ben can't tell anymore if he's holding Justin up or just holding him.  
  
\--  
  
The few times Ben has been to the loft it's seemed louder than this, and he can't quite reconcile someone as controlled as Brian generating so much noise that his absence registers as silence, but there it is. No wonder Justin couldn't get back to sleep.  
  
Justin peels away from his side and starts peeling his clothes off, heading towards the bed in a mostly-straight line. Ben lingers near the door and thinks of papers he has to grade, open office hours.  
  
"So, are you staying?" Justin's head is cocked to the side, curious,  
  
It seemed simpler in the bar. Ben shoves his hands into his pockets. "I figured you need to get to sleep."  
  
Justin falls heavily onto the near corner of the bed, kicks his pants off with his one remaining shoe and sits there in his briefs. "I'm not that tired. Just kinda drunk."  
  
"I kinda noticed."  
  
Justin giggles and pats the bed next to him. "Come on. Keep me company until I pass out, anyway... heard from Hunter?"  
  
Ben drops his eyes to the floor and nods, chuckling. "As a matter of fact, yes, he wrote me last week." Justin flops backwards into the tangle of sheets and mumbles something Ben takes as encouragement, so he keeps talking as he crosses the loft. "He says Iowa sucks, his aunt sucks, and she makes him eat Brussel sprouts."  
  
"Ooooh, sounds hellish." Justin is giggling again, rolling to face him as he gets nearer and Ben reaches out to tweak his bare foot.  
  
"It's not exactly easy for him. He's a long way from... well, everything." Here. Him.  
  
Justin sniffs and nods a little, scooting closer when Ben sits to toe his shoes off. "He's a smart kid. Bratty, but smart, he'll be okay."  
  
"Mmm. So long as Brussel sprouts are his biggest complaint, I guess so." Justin reaches up and peels his shirt off his shoulders, and Ben admits, "I still worry about him."  
  
"'Course you do."  
  
"He swears he's coming back to Pittsburgh the second he turns eighteen." Justin mutely lifts the sheets and slides under them, tugging Ben close and nestling against his side. "He says he still wants to fuck Brian, too."  
  
Justin's laugh fans warmly across the skin of Ben's chest. "He's welcome to try."  
  
"I miss him." He misses all of them, but it's harder to say. Justin wraps an arm across his body and squeezes.  
  
"Me, too. Relax, Ben."  
  
Ben tries, but the things that drive him to bars in the middle of the night just won't let him. He thinks Justin may have dozed off, should have dozed off, but then there's a chin propped on his chest and blue eyes peering, still slightly tipsy, into his.  
  
"You know he had to go."  
  
Ben knows Justin isn't talking about Hunter. "Warmer climate, good for Vic's lungs... yeah, I know." He can't say the rest of it, that Debbie's house was too small and too mortgaged to pay for the move. That Michael... that Michael left to take care of his family, the one thing the two of them somehow hadn't had anymore. That his last call had been brief and quiet, and Ben just didn't have it in him to blame Michael for any of it. "I loved him." And that that was why.  
  
Justin smiles a little, looks like he knows more about that than maybe he should. "Yeah. You're a good man, Ben Bruckner."  He lays his head back down on Ben's chest and falls asleep. After a bit longer, so does Ben.  
  
\--  
  
Ben's never woken up with Justin before. To be honest, he hasn't woken up anything but alone in a long, long time, and maybe that's why it takes him a moment to realize the hand on his cock isn't another dream.  
  
"Justi-- ... ohshit." He feels Justin's mouth on his shoulder, the little puff of air from his chuckle.  
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Good... God." He closes his hand over Justin's where he's snaked under Ben's boxer-briefs, stops the maddening stroke of his fist. "What are you doing?"  
  
Justin laughs again. "Jerking you off. Has it been that long?" His fingers move, beneath cloth and over flesh.  
  
Fuck, he's good at that. "No, I just... you don't have to."  
  
"I know I don't. Quit fighting me." Justin nips the skin over his shoulder blade, lightly, then kisses the spot when Ben gives in and lets go of his hand.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"'Why.' 'Cause you're hot, and you're here. You were nice to me." Justin buries his nose against the back of Ben's neck, breathes in hard as he tugs a groan out of Ben with those clever fingers. Ben wouldn't hear him, except his mouth is so close, "And because you don't get out enough."  
  
Ben would have to be an idiot to argue with that. He is an idiot, because even now he can't help but say it. "We're friends."  
  
"Uh huh." Justin shifts closer, he must have kicked his briefs off because his dick is pressing bare and hard against the small of Ben's back.  
  
"You don't--"  
  
Justin laughs when he gets it. "Fuck my friends? Brian's stupid rule, not mine. Besides," he shifts again, grinding and pulling. "I think we've been here before."  
  
Ben doesn't say that it was just once, just a fluke. Justin runs his thumb over the head of Ben's cock, squeezes and twists, and Ben doesn't say that he never thought it would happen again.  
  
"God, you have no idea how hot you sound right now. I could come just like this." Justin's pushing his cock against Ben's back with little circles of his hips, again and again.  
  
Ben tips his head back, wanting Justin's mouth on his neck and whispers, "Do it."  
  
"Fuck."  
  
Justin lets go, and Ben's back is suddenly cold but he's only moved away a little, Ben trusts him and he waits. Justin tosses the sheet off them both, shoves it and Ben's underwear down to the end of the bed and then he's spit-slicking his own cock with one hand and tucking right up against Ben again.  
  
His cock fits right there, right into the groove of Ben's ass with the head pushing at the base of his spine and when Justin closes his fist around Ben's cock again he's not remotely teasing. It isn't slow or tender, but it's exactly what Ben needs. He comes apart in Justin's hands, with him rutting against Ben's back and cursing through his own orgasm, and for a brief moment Ben can't remember why he ever worried about this.  
  
They don't move right away, just lie there breathing and Ben remembers this from before, remembers how Justin is. He's wrapped his arm around Ben's chest and finally Ben reaches up, touches Justin's wrist with his fingertips.  
  
"You could have called."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Instead of going to Woody's."  
  
"Oh... yeah, I guess I could have. Just didn't think of it."  
  
Justin lets go of his dick. He lifts his hand and looks at it, makes a quiet noise in his throat as he rubs his fingers together.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing." He licks across the line of Ben's shoulder and pulls back, scoots away. "I'll remember next time."  
  
Ben rolls to watch him and Justin's wiping his hand on last night's shirt. He's a mess, they both are, but Ben nudges Justin over onto his back and buries his face in Justin's belly. He smells of sleep and sweat and come and Ben does what Justin can't, takes that taste into himself.  
  
"Ben."  
  
His voice is rough but when Ben looks up at him, Justin's smiling.  
  
"You want me to fuck you again?"  
  
Ben decides he really, really does.


End file.
